Missing Scenes
by Lostinfic
Summary: Some missing scenes from series 2, if Hannah were in Broadchurch. She's visiting him, staying in his little blue house, they've known each other for a few years and the time is finally right for them to be together. When the trial begins, their new relationship is put to the test.
1. Episode 1

This is set in the same 'verse as the ficlet "Adrift" if you need a back story.

I've been writing these after each episode, without knowing what would happen next.

* * *

Hannah stepped out of the house and sat on the steps next to Hardy. She knew he wasn't a fan of the rental property because of its proximity to the water, but she liked the quietness of the harbour in the morning. It was far better than the Trader's. Maybe she'd stay longer this time.

Hardy looked pointedly at her mug of tea.

"There's more in the kitchen."

He nodded but didn't move.

She leaned against him, resting her cheek on his shoulder while he read his mail. She knew he had a big day ahead, but she fought the need to ask how he felt. He'd just tell her he's fine anyway. She kissed his sleeve between two sips.

"I'm fine."

"I didn't say anything."

"Well, I can hear you think."

"Can you also hear me think about what I'll do to you tonight? Maybe if I can concentrate hard enough you could even see it."

She scrunched up her face and rubbed her temples.

"Can you see it now? I'll give you a hint, it's the blue bra."

At least, that earned her a quick chuckle.

"The blue, eh?"

He discarded the letter and put an arm around her back, stroking her naked shoulder with his thumb. She sipped the rest of her tea in silence, looking out at boats crisscrossing the bay and at the birds doing a similar pattern in the sky. A young man had offered her a ride on his sailboat yesterday, maybe she'd do that today.

His watch beeped, indicating it was time to take his medicine.

While he was inside, Maggie and Olly walked up to the house. They studied her with circumspection, and she gave them nothing more than a curt nod. She stood up, making sure to give them an eyeful of the "juicy" written across her bum on her pyjama shorts. Let them have something to gossip about.

"They're here," she announced to Alec as she stepped inside.

"What? Is that now? Urgh, give me a minute."

"I take it I can have the second cup," she said, already pouring the rest of the tea in her mug.

The journalists waited outside while Hardy went to the bedroom to pick a jacket and tie.

"I'll see you after the court hearing," he said, placing a hand on the small of her back to kiss her temple, "and stop it with the naughty telepathy, it's very distracting."

She laughed and sent him away with a slap on the arse.

"Oi!"

* * *

As he approached the blue house, Alec noticed right away that the door was ajar and a window was broken.

"Hannah!"

"Someone broke in," she said, walking out.

Alec rushed past her and in the house, looking through drawers and cupboards. She told him nothing was missing but that didn't seem to calm him down.

He turned to Hannah, he touched her hair, her face, her shoulders, he held her forearms, inspecting them on both side. He was breathing heavily through clenched teeth.

"Did he hurt you?"

"I'm fine, I'm fine, I was at Waitrose, I came back and the door was opened..."

He ran a hand through his hair before falling back on the couch. He had that look on his face, like he was trying to count every teeth in his mouth and then got super irritated because he'd missed one and had to start all over again.

Deciding to let him cool off, she emptied the grocery bags, which contained mostly prepared meals and snacks, neither of them was very keen on cooking.

She'd heard on the radio that Joe Miller had pleaded not guilty, she didn't know exactly what that entailed but judging by Hardy's reaction to a minor break-in, it couldn't be good.

She opened a bag of crisps, and he glared at her when it rustled. Hannah rolled her eyes.

"I'll be in the bedroom."

She'd just finished fixing her hair when he walked in, dragging his feet. He'd gotten rid of his jacket and tie.

"You heard about…"

"Yeah… How's Ellie?"

"Not so well… I even offered her a hug."

"You did?" Hannah replied, laughing. "How did that go?"

"She looked at me like I was barmy. I mean, it's what people do, no?"

"Well, she doesn't know what she's missing."

She took a step towards him, his hands were in his pockets so she slipped her arms between his and his waist. He kissed the crown of her head before hugging her back. His deep sigh ruffled her hair, and she stoke his back until he stopped being so stiff.

"I wanna be selfish and keep you here," he whispered, tightening his hug.

"Why d'you say that for? I'm not leaving yet."

"You should, you're not safe here."


	2. Episode 2

Set between episode 1 and 2

* * *

Sunlight filtered through Hannah's eyelids, shades of orange and pink moving to the rhythm of the waves. The mattress shifted, and she felt a kiss, more scruff than lips, on the back of her neck. She caught Hardy's arm when he tried to move away from her. There was something she needed to ask him, but her mind was too hazy to remember.

"You gonna let me go?" his voice was thick with sleep and laced with amusement.

Eyes still closed, she shook her head and tightened her grip on his limb. He traced idle circles around her navel, and all her sluggish senses zeroed in on that pleasant sensation and the way it echoed lower in her body. Warmth dripped from his fingertips and pooled between her legs.

"Do that thing again," she mumbled, trying to push his hand further down.

"This?"

He tickled her and she automatically curled in on herself, giggling.

"No, stop, stop! The other thing, the nice thing!"

She arched her back and pushed his hand lower between her legs.

"You're very high maintenance," he whispered against her neck as his fingers skimmed her nether lips.

"You love it."

"I love you."

She craned her neck to catch his lips. Morning breath aside, these lazy kisses, early in the day, were amongst her favourites and she missed them when they were separated. As his fingers started making good on their promises, his phone alarm blared.

"Please snooze."

"I've already snoozed three times. Some of us can't afford to stay in bed all day."

"Some of us do their best work in a bed."

She stretched languorously hoping to change his mind, but his warm embrace left her. Reality caught up with her. She remembered now what they were supposed to talk about yesterday but never had: he'd said she wasn't safe in Broadchurch and should leave.

She turned on her back to look at Hardy. He was propped up on one arm, looking down at her, his eyes a soft, clear brown in the morning light. She gently swiped his fringe to the side to get a better look at him, and he smiled lightly.

"Good morning."

"Good morning."

She touched a patch of gray on his beard that had appeared a little prematurely as a result of the last year's stress. He disliked being reminded of it, but she thought it suited him. It also reminded her of how long they'd known each other and how far they'd come to finally be able to share a house.

Her heart clenched.

She didn't want to go.

"You alright?" he asked.

"Yeah, fine, erm, shouldn't you get dressed?"

She figured that sending him to work would delay the conversation and therefore her departure for at least another day. Postponing was fine until she started worrying. After all, she had no clue whatsoever about the kind of danger she may be facing. When she walked up the high street later that day, she found herself glancing behind her in case anyone was following, and her favourite café was suddenly populated by potential murderers.

She knew Hardy was working on something despite the fact that he was no longer a DI. She'd seen him lock up files in a drawer, and he'd get lost in thoughts a lot, the kind of thoughts that made him clench his teeth. She hadn't asked any questions so far. She'd clung to their peace and happiness, hoping foolishly that it would last. But now she had to know.

She was in the middle of a conference call when Hardy came back home. She covered the receiver with her hand to give him a quick kiss before getting back to arguing.

"No, it's 12 inches long, I'm telling you."

She giggled at the astonished look on Hardy's face.

"Not what you're thinking," she mouthed.

She finished her call and sat on the kitchen counter, legs flapping nervously. While Hardy dried the dishes— she'd washed them earlier but he refused to let them dry in the rack— they chatted about their day and the trial beginning tomorrow.

"Did anyone talk to you or come to the house today?" he asked.

"Only people I knew… maybe it's time you tell me what's going on."

He put the towel away and placed his hands on her jeans-covered knees. His serious expression made her stomach drop.

"There's someone from a past case," he spoke slowly, "a killer who walked free."

"The Sandbrook case?"

He nodded slightly.

"He may be back in the country, and I've got things— people— to take care of, and I can't worry about you at the same time."

Oh.

So that's it, she would be a distraction, a nuisance.

"So, what's your plan?" she asked curtly.

"I can't tell you that," he answered, crossing his arms.

"Can't or don't want to?"

"I don't want to."

At least he was honest.

"But you're gonna tell Ellie?"

The look he gave her clearly indicated that he had intention of getting into that argument. She looked down, fiddling with the tassels of her scarf. She didn't want to be that kind of woman. She wasn't even jealous, just… confused.

"Please, Hannah. If he's really back… if he wants to hurt me and he knows about you…"

He rubbed her arms and gave her a pleading look. He didn't need to finish his sentence for a spike of fear to shoot through her guts.

"What if he does hurt you, though?"

"He won't. I'll be fine. I've got it covered."

"You said that the last time and you almost killed yourself, so forgi—" The words caught in her throat, she pressed her lips to the back of her hand, trying to reign in her emotions, before talking again. "Forgive me if I'm not exactly reassured."

He stepped between her legs and wrapped his arms around her. His strength had always been her weakness. She tucked her head under his chin and took a few deep breaths, the woodsy undertones of his cologne soothed her.

She didn't want to cry, but she'd been so scared to lose him last year, and all that fear was resurfacing now.

"I'll be… careful," he said.

She snorted.

"You expect me to believe that?"

His silence spoke volumes. They remained embraced without speaking a word, hearts heavy and minds heavier. There were so many things at stake and the foundation of their relationship suddenly seemed too brittle.

"It's not just that, though," she said, leaning back on her hands, "I mean, finally, after years, the timing was right, we're free and ready and happy… I don't know…."

"You have to understand, Hannah, it's not that I don't want you here, but I need to finish this and after—"

"It's always gonna be after something, though, isn't it? After Christmas, after the divorce, after this case, after—"

"After your clients."

They glared at each other, and Hardy stepped away from her, crossing his arms and leaning back against the opposite counter.

"There are other people involved: witnesses, parents… I didn't ask Ashworth to come back."

"Maybe not, but it must've been your plan all along, no?"

"What are you after, Hannah? Want me to choose between you and getting justice? M'not gonna do that."

"'Course not!"

Only heartbreak would result from that, whichever he chose.

She hopped off the counter and walked to the front room window. She looked out at the clusters of lights blinking in the violet night around the harbour. When her eyes defocused, she caught sight of Hardy's reflection on the glass pane; he was standing in the doorway, hands in pockets, looking at her. She mulled over what she wanted to say to him and how to say it to him. Finally, she turned around.

"I love you, Alec, and I want you to finally close that case… no that's— I want you to find peace, that's what I want, even if it means that we have to be separated… but I'm scared for you and for us."

She covered her mouth with trembling fingers, waiting for his reaction. The distance between them felt so cold.

"And I'm scared for you, so…"

"Great, so we agree on that."

She chuckled wetly and they each walked towards the other. He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and let his thumb linger on her cheek, looking at her with eyebrows drawn together.

There was so much he wasn't telling her.

She'd never wanted to get involved in someone else's problems until now. Wanting to help went against every self-preserving mechanism she'd ever had.

He must have guessed from the way she squared her shoulders, that she was about to protest because he shook his head. There was a sadness in his eyes and yesterday he'd said he wanted to be selfish and keep her here. It wouldn't take much to change his mind. She knew it and he knew it. But it wouldn't be the best way to help him.

"I've got a meeting in Bournemouth tomorrow, I'll leave after," she said, "just… promise me you'll take good care of yourself, and of Ellie too, and you'll call."

He nodded and placed a soft kiss on her forehead. That was hardly a promise.

"You know, once it's over I probably won't need to stay in Broadchurch."

"London?"

"Could be."

Her weak smile mirrored his own, both unwilling to get their hopes up, but she took his hands and squeezed them affectionately.

"I'm hungry, let's get something."

She started walking away, but he pulled her back to him by the hand. He kissed her and that kiss told her more about his love and fear than any words in any language could have.


	3. Episode 2 part 2

Set during episode 2

* * *

"Who are you calling shitface?" Hannah asked as she walked into the living room where Ellie and Brian were dusting for prints.

The SOCO looked shamefaced for about half-a-second, then he saw her. He refrained from whistling, his eyes grew wide and curious instead— the usual reaction when people realized she was with Alec.

"And what should I call you?" he asked with a leer.

She almost answered "Mrs. Hardy" just to see his reaction, but they were trying to keep the gossips to a minimum.

"Call me Hannah."

Ellie and her exchanged greetings and a few pleasantries. They'd only met twice, yet she practically knew the other woman's whole life story. Ellie, on the other hand, knew next to nothing about her. And Hannah really didn't know what to say to her. She started picking up stuff around the room to hide her discomfort.

"Are you leaving?" Ellie asked, eyeing Hannah's suitcase.

"Yeah, I've got a meeting this afternoon, and I'll go back to London tomorrow. Alec said it'd be better, what with everything going on.

I might even go on a holiday or something."

"He told you about Lee Ashworth?" she whispered the name so Brian wouldn't hear.

"Sort of…" She pursed her lips, considering what she was about to say. "He's dragged you into this hasn't he?"

"I'm helping him."

Hannah smiled tightly. It hurt her pride that another woman was a better fit to help her boyfriend, but she tried to push those feelings aside. She quite liked Ellie after all, and she hoped Hardy's single-mindedness wouldn't hurt her, she already had enough trouble as it was.

"Sometimes, Alec, he thinks he knows what everyone needs better than themselves. So you tell him if he's being an arse, yeah?"

"Tell me about it," Ellie replied with an eye roll. "Called him a wanker yesterday."

Hannah giggled and nodded approvingly.

"You can call him a wanker but I can't call him shitface?" Brian commented.

He shook his head and exited the house as the women kept on laughing.

"Ellie? Can I leave you my number if, you know, just in case, something happens? You know about his heart, yeah?"

Ellie nodded and they swapped numbers. They exchanged a few anecdotes about Hardy's grumpy attitude and general rudeness, before she had to leave to catch the train to Bournemouth.

She was buttoning up her white coat when Ellie said:

"Uhm, Hannah, maybe don't go away for too long, I think he's gonna need you."

Ellie knew more than her about the Sandbrook case, and if she thought Hardy might need Hannah, it didn't bode well. On the way to Bournemouth, she distracted herself by thinking of all the things she would do in London and couldn't do in Broadchurch.

* * *

When Hannah came out of the shower, she heard people talking in the other room. It was late at night so she worried immediately. She quickly slipped on a pair of knickers and a camisole and tiptoed out of the washroom.

"Oh, Miller I could just kiss you," she heard Alec say.

"… Just promise me she'll be safe."

"She'll be safe."

Hannah leaned against the door jamb, arms and legs crossed.

"You could just kiss her?"

"Sorry, didn't realize you were there."

"Not making it better."

He scratched his neck and took a tentative step towards her. She pretended she hadn't noticed his laboured breath and walk.

"What have you got to say for yourself?"

She wasn't really crossed, but she enjoyed seeing him a little flustered. He caught on when she bit back a smile.

"I could kiss her," he said, approaching her more cocksure, "but I'd rather kiss you."

"Oh, you smooth bastard."

She dragged her hands up his chest to meet behind his neck. He smirked, and she felt his confidence in the way he kissed her, pressing his mouth firmly to hers, hands holding her waist to guide her back against the wall.

"Anything else you'd rather do to me?"

"I can think of a few things."

He took her hand and guided her towards the bedroom.

The room was dark, safe for moonlight coming in through the window and bouncing off the mirror by the bed. In the dimness, it dawned on them that this could be the last time for a long time. His playful and confident kisses turned sorrowful.

It was a quiet affair, disrobing with featherlight fingers and savouring each other's skin. Bodies wrapped together, they writhed on the worn-out quilt, clutching hands and breathing the same ragged breaths.

It was a night for fragile promises and stormless pleasures, for greed and abandon.

They made it last as long as they could, delaying climax with shallow thrusts and endless kisses. It built up slowly from the tip of their toes to the last hair on their heads, and it ended at the juncture of their lips with a muted moan.

Hardy's fingers played a silent nocturne along her spine from neck to tailbone. It made her skull tingle, and it lulled her into a peaceful altered state of mind.

They were quiet, happy as long as the sun remained hidden. He kissed her shoulder, then turned away to rest on his back. He beckoned her over with one glance, and she cuddled up to him, putting her head on his chest, sparse hair tickling her nose. He caressed her hair but it soon turned into an automatic gesture that told her he must be deep in thoughts.

She tilted her head up and was surprised to see him smile.

"Maybe don't buy that train ticket just yet. With what Miller told me earlier, this could be over sooner than I'd thought… if all goes according to plan."

Hope bubbled up in Hannah's chest, and they smiled at each other.


	4. Episode 3

Set during episode 3

* * *

At high tide, when she sat on the concrete with her feet dangling above the water, the waves would tickle her toes. With a kick, Hannah sent some drops flying into an arc, catching in the shy sunrays when they reached the highest point. It was too cool for a dip now, but maybe later. She pulled the blanket higher up on her shoulders and brushed her cheek on the silky chenille fabric.

In London, she could tell what time it was just by the noises outside her windows. Here, everything had seemed so quiet at first, but she was learning the noises of Broadchurch. Fishermen ships and cruise boats had distinct sounds just like morning and afternoon birds did. And it was the polite murmur of citizens greeting each other on the streets that woke her up in the morning instead of car honks and multilingual commuters cursing the weather.

It must be around 5am now, she guessed.

She'd always had strange sleep patterns, but last night she hadn't slept at all.

"Get away from the water, you're making me nervous," Alec said from somewhere behind her.

She didn't even look at him. He'd been in a foul mood since yesterday and it was contagious.

Yesterday afternoon, she'd come back from her jog and had found him asleep on the couch, looking the worse for wear. She knew that he was supposed to do something important at Ellie's old house, but he'd refused to tell her what had happened. She'd gathered that nothing had gone as planned. The mood had only deteriorated when she mentioned his health. He'd been in pain, it was written all over his face, even though he'd said he would be careful.

Arguing, she could deal with, they'd done that and made up plenty of times. But this sulking speckled with snarky comments was new and unnerving. It was the kind of thing an old and bitter married couple would do. It wasn't them. They'd always been forthright with one another.

He'd spent the night on the couch. His own decision. She was starting to think her mother had been right about not going to bed angry with your partner.

She heard Hardy ruffle through papers, and she knew without looking what he was reading. The same bloody file day after day. She wanted to throw it in the sea, let the fish solve that case.

"Would you… like a cup of coffee?" he asked.

This time, she did look at him over her shoulder. It was the nicest thing he'd said to her in the last twelve hours.

"No."

She turned her eyes back to the water.

"Tea?"

"No."

"Orange juice?"

She didn't answer, and he sighed heavily. She heard him get back in the house, and she thought that was the end of the efforts he was willing to make.

A few minutes later, she heard the muted sound of bare feet on concrete and the smell of coffee reached her. A mint green mug topped with frothy milk appeared in her field of view.

She didn't take it.

"Just take it."

From his tone of voice, she could tell he was done with sulking. She accepted his peace offering.

She took a few sips, the warmth in her throat a contrast to the cool water at her feet. Hardy stayed by her side, she could see his reflection on the water, stoic, patient. Only the squawk of seagulls filled the silence.

She wished she knew what was going on in his heart.

Something in the rich beverage and in the sky slowly turning peach appeased her. She rested her head against his knee, and shortly after, his fingertips caressed the top of her hair.

"I'm sorry," he said.

As a reply, she rubbed his calf.

"I don't… I don't want to make the same mistake I made with Tess. I don't want to push you away… but I can feel myself getting pulled back in that frame of mind and I…" The sentence ended on a sharp exhale.

She craned her neck to look up at him, his gaze was trained on the horizon, his jaw clenched. She reached for his hand. Finally, he locked eyes with her, and she smiled gently, encouragingly. His features relaxed but they were still undecipherable.

She could have told him that she was nothing like his ex-wife, that she would talk to him instead of sleeping with someone else. However, Hannah wasn't sure how true that was.

She put her mug down and stood up. A hug would do them both a world of good.

The cotton of his t-shirt was soft against her cheek and the skin of his throat was warm and musky on the tip of her nose. His arms met around her waist and pulled her closer. He sighed, contentedly this time, and kissed her forehead.

In the years before the Gillespie girls disappeared, before he got sick, he was the one she called when she needed someone. When it felt like it was her against the world, he was on her side. Now it was his turn to be against the world. She hoped she could be as strong for him as he'd been for her. She had to keep him afloat through this but she might drown trying.

"I'm afraid I'll lose you," he confessed.

His fingers dug in the flesh of her back, his nose now buried in the crook of her neck.

"Me too."

She tightened her hold on him.

She was glad he couldn't see her face because no matter how much she wanted to reassure him, she couldn't muster up a brave front.

"Let's go back to bed," she said simply.

He glanced at the documents on the doorstep, and she held her breath, sensing his hesitation.

"Okay."

They walked back inside the house, hand in hand.

Morning light escaped from each side of the curtains, so they pulled the cool sheets over their heads, keeping the outside world firmly away from them at least for a little while.

She nudged her knee between his thighs and their hands slipped under each other's clothes and when they kissed, their hearts realigned.

"We're only just beginning you and me," she spoke into his skin.

He nodded before taking her mouth again. And in that moment it felt like the purest truth.


	5. Episode 3 part 2

Set during episode 3

* * *

At least, they'd had a good hour in bed before being disturbed by a phone call. Hardy walked out of the house, still talking, and she stopped eating her apple to eavesdrop on his conversation.

"I don't know, Claire won't talk to me. I'm gonna need you to talk to her… oh that's nice tell 'em congratulation… yeah okay."

He hung up on Ellie and turned towards Hannah. The way he looked at her was more inquisitive than usual, she could almost see the wheels turning in his head.

"What?" she asked, warily.

"I need you to help Ellie," he said, "take her out to a bar or something, with her… friend and keep an eye out for her."

"What happened to 'it's dangerous, you should leave'?"

He placed his hands on his hips, she knew that stance meant business.

"If you're gonna stay here, you might as well make yourself useful."

"Sorry?" she asked, offended.

"It's safe, you'll just need to stay with Ellie. Claire doesn't even have to know you're with me… Think of it as role play. Go as Belle."

She took a big bite from her apple, buying herself some time to mull over his request as she chewed. She wasn't sure what to make of it. Was that why he'd apologized earlier? She wouldn't put it past him.

Whether it really was safe or not, she had no intention of jumping in without all the information. If she was going to help, she needed to know the whole story.

"Tell me everything," she demanded.

He hesitated, running a hand over his mouth and cheek while a furious debate took place in his head. There would be no going back after this. He was dragging her deeper and deeper into this mess. If something happened to her, he would never be able to forgive himself.

But he knew she could help. One thing he'd always appreciated about her was her divergent mindset. More than once, he'd called her with a problem knowing she would make him see things he hadn't considered before. When all your friends and family are in the police you can get stuck, Hannah asked questions no one else thought of asking.

It was a matter of deciding if solving this case was worth the risk.

"Look, Alec, I can't stay safe if I don't even know what the danger is."

"Yeah, okay," he said, resigned.

Sitting down on the doorstep, he put on his glasses while Hannah kneeled behind him. With her chin on his shoulder she could see the file opened in front of them.

She already knew quite a lot about the case itself from things she'd seen on the news and the few times they'd talked back then. But she had no idea about Claire being in Broadchurch or about Lee coming back. She refrained from scolding him when he recounted what had happened at Ellie's house.

She asked Hardy questions, the right ones judging by the proud look on his face. And she found she was really enjoying this. They were a team, she realized. They had each other's back.

Getting mixed up in someone else's business had never felt so right.

* * *

Ellie tried on one of the several pairs of shoes Hannah had laid out for her on the carpet by the bed.

"Not sure about the colour, try these," Hannah said, pointing at another pair.

Leaning against the door jamb, hands buried in his pockets, Hardy observed their feminine ritual. Hannah drank the last of her rosé, giving her new BFF the once-over before nodding approvingly.

"So, how long have you known each other?" Ellie asked.

"Five? Almost six years?" Hardy answered.

"Oh, so you knew her when you were married?"

Alec and Hannah exchanged an embarrassed look.

"Sorry, didn't mean to imply…"

"No, that's fine, we were—"

"Friends, good friends," Hannah jumped in, "but I think he's had a crush on me since the beginning."

"I do not have crushes," Hardy muttered.

"No, you're right, I should've said you were maaaaadly in love with me since the beginning."

"You're blushing, sir."

Alec huffed and the girls giggled. Hannah simply couldn't resist teasing him, it was too easy.

"Aaww, don't be embarrassed, honeybear."

"Don't."

"My darling sweetheart," she added, batting her eyelashes.

"No."

She winked at him, and he shook his head, trying to hide a smile.

Still giggling, Ellie picked up their empty glasses and headed to the kitchen for more wine.

Alec walked closer to Hannah, she was applying lipstick and their eyes met in the mirror.

"Madly. That's one word for it," he said.

His voice was affectionate, his eyes warm— bedroom eyes she called it. She smacked her lips and smiled at him.

"Madly," she agreed.

Holding her gaze in the mirror, he put an arm around her waist. His fingers slipped under the green silk top as he kissed her head.

She turned in his arms to kiss him properly, lipstick be damned. Their mouths moved eagerly together and the kiss grew more heated than it should have considering they had company. Her hands slipped in his back pockets, giving his bum a little squeeze as she pulled him closer. He chuckled against her lips. His own hands were now higher up on her back, still under her top, pressing in her flesh, following the curve of her ribs.

"Wake me up when you come back," he said in the crook of her neck.

* * *

Hannah sat at the bar, poking a slice of lime at the bottom of her glass with a straw. Her eyes flitted between the mushed piece of citrus and the clock above the rows of liquor bottles. Ellie should arrive any minute with Claire. They'd decided it would be better to come separately, in case Lee was at the house.

There were familiar butterflies in her stomach, the same kind she got when she walked through a hotel lobby to meet a new client. Maybe she shouldn't be so excited about this, but after days of relative calm, she welcomed the thrill of going undercover.

Claire was… odd. Hannah liked to think she was a good judge of character, but she couldn't quite pinpoint what was off about Hardy's witness.

She managed to keep an agreeable front and make up answers to her questions. When Claire went to the loo, she kept an eye out while Ellie snooped around in her mobile.

As the night wore on, she started to feel like the third wheel— or fifth, in this case. The bloke Claire had chosen kept leering at Hannah and it became clear that Claire wanted her to leave. As much as she did want to do just that, she had to look out for Ellie.

They were all hungry and it was decided that they should seek deep fried stuff at a nearby fair. They more or less staggered out of the pub. The cool night air was a relief.

"You don't have to come with us," Ellie said.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, of course, I'll be fine."

"Yeah?"

The older woman nodded but it looked like she wanted to say more. Hannah waited, sending Alec a text while Ellie fiddled with her necklace.

"D'you think I should… do it?" She glanced meaningfully towards the bloke who'd been talking to her all night. "I haven't done this in ages."

She was taken aback by Ellie's question. On one hand, she'd always been an advocate for sexual healing and the man seemed harmless enough. On the other hand, Ellie's circumstances were unusual.

"Erm, well, d'you like him?"

"He's cute… he said he liked my eyes."

She smiled, but there was just a hint of despair in her eyes that broke Hannah's heart. She'd been there too, feeling lonely and unloved. Being desired, there was no feeling like it. If that bloke made Ellie feel attractive, maybe that was enough, Hannah reckoned. That's what she'd do.

"Don't forget to use protection." They laughed uneasily. "Just… only do it if it feels right."

"I think so, s'just I have to decide now, 'cause we'll take his car…"

Digging in her purse, Hannah pulled out a couple of pound notes— more than enough for a cab ride— and placed them in Ellie's hand.

"You can change your mind anytime."

* * *

Hannah walked with her hands trailing along the wooden fence on each side of the path leading to the seaside house. Not only was the passage dimly lit, but she was unsteady on her feet. The alcohol had kicked in with a delay, it made her feel warm and light-headed. Alec had asked her to wake him up, and she had every intention to do so.

As she neared the house, she heard an unfamiliar man's voice.

"Do blue bells even grow in France?"

Then, she saw him: tall, narrow eyes, hair grayer than on the photos. She couldn't shake off the feeling that she'd seen Lee Ashworth before. She didn't know where, but she knew she wanted to kick him in the balls.

She hoped to avoid him, but it was too late, he'd seen her.

"Well, well, looks like the good detective has got himself a pretty bird."

Her heart hammered in her chest as Lee looked at her predatorily. She had to think fast.

"What?"

Brilliant.

"Frankly, I didn't think he had it in him," Lee continued, walking closer.

"Sorry, I think I've got the wrong house."

Playing the dumb blonde was always a good fall back strategy. She twirled a strand of hair around her finger and let out a high-pitched giggle. She tried to walk away at a natural pace, hoping he wouldn't follow.

"No, you've got the right place. I've seen you around here before."

Hannah gulped. Before she could think of another lie, Hardy had come out of the house.

"Leave her alone, Ashworth."

Lee ignored him, he stayed between them, facing Hannah with a curious look in his eyes.

"How can you like him? This man ruined my life. He'd rather harass me than try to find the real killer. He keeps my wife prisoner," his voice was low but aggressive, he pointed an accusing finger at Hardy behind him. "He is not a good man. He is toxic."

Hannah was too shaken to think of a reply, and she narrowly avoided being knocked down when he walked past her.

Hardy was at her side immediately, putting an arm around her shoulders, rubbing up and down as if she was cold. They stared at Lee's receding silhouette until it was out of sight.

"You all right," Hardy asked.

"Yeah. You?"

When he didn't answer, she glanced at him. He had that lost look in his big brown eyes. She cupped his cheek, his scuff tickling her palm.

"Are you okay?"

"I don't know what to think anymore."


	6. Between ep 3 and 4

"I don't care if it's almost over! I had nightmares all night, I am not doing this anymore," Hannah declared.

"Oh c'mon, it wasn't that bad."

The automatic doors of M&amp;S slid opened, and Hardy picked up a shopping basket by the entrance.

"I'm not watching one more episode of The Walking Dead. You can do it on your own and away from me," she continued.

"You're such a wuss," he teased her.

He took her hand and kissed the back of it. The gesture surprised her, he usually shied away from public displays of affection, especially in Broadchurch.

"Why d'you like it so much anyway?" she asked.

"People bashing other people's heads in… it's cathartic."

Hannah chuckled, nudging him with her shoulder.

He tugged on her hand, guiding her towards the first aisle. The refrigerated shelves on each side were lined with prepared meals, and Hannah scanned the stacks for her favourite quinoa salad— the one with blueberries and basil dressing, an oddly delicious combination. The place was crowded at this hour, but she managed to find what she was looking for without letting go of Hardy's hand. She also picked up more plastic containers filled with diced fruits and crudité, and placed them in the basket. He frowned at the sight of them.

"Why d'you buy these? You know, it's cheaper to buy whole veggies and cut them yourself," he said.

"No, it's not, 'cause I wouldn't cut them, they'd just rot away in the fridge while I eat crisps. Do we need bread?"

The bakery section smelled so good, Hannah couldn't resist buying a fresh baguette and almond croissants as well as a loaf of bread.

"Why do you care, anyway? I'm paying."

"I'm just saying, we could cook."

"We?"

He shrugged, and they stopped in front of the deli counter. While they waited in line, Hardy kept an arm around her waist.

"You know how to cook?" she insisted.

"Of course, you think I let Tess do everything?"

"Oh, what a modern man, you are," she said, patting his chest.

She grinned at him, and he surprised her once more by kissing her— just a quick peck, but it didn't stop the employee from clearing his throat impatiently.

As they continued shopping, Alec talked about cooking beef wellington or turkey curry, and maybe a nice dinner, just the two of them, with candles and wine and some decadent dessert.

"Blimey, you're acting weird," Hannah said.

He shrugged and focused on the toothpaste selection.

"You are, though. Alec, what is it?

"Nothing! Urgh… look we— we've never had a proper date. People do that."

"People?"

"Couples… Colgate alright with you?"

"Uh… yeah. Maybe you should try the one for sensitive teeth, you wince when you eat ice cream… Wait, couples?"

"We live together, we sleep together, we love each other— we're a couple," he said trying to keep his voice down. "Look, can we not do this in the bloody shop?"

Hannah pulled a confused face, almost a grimace, which he didn't address. Instead, he took off, heading for the cash register. Hannah stayed behind, dumbfounded.

For all intents and purposes, she was his girlfriend, she knew that. But he'd never said it so plainly before. And she certainly hadn't pegged him as the romantic-dinners type. This was new territory. It'd be great if she didn't have the feeling there was more to it than a sudden need to officialise their relationship.

Outside, a strong wind rustled her hair and the plastic bags. Hardy insisted on giving her his jacket and carrying all the bags. Modern man, indeed.

On the way back home, they met a few familiar faces, they greeted Hardy politely but none linger for small talk. He was still an outsider in Broadchurch, and she had yet to find out if that really didn't bother him.

As they stowed away their purchases in the cupboards, Hannah thought back on their conversation. With the trial and Lee Ashworth coming back in town, they hadn't had much time to themselves lately, cooking a romantic meal didn't seem so silly after all.

She imagined stirring the sauce while drinking wine, and flour handprints on her bum. The thought of Hardy in an apron made her cackle, so she had to tell him what was on her mind.

"Only if you find me a manly apron," he answered.

"I'm on it!"

"And not this weekend."

When she tried to know the reason why, he remained vague, muttering about having just come back from the grocery store. Once again, she knew there was something serious on his mind. But with Hardy, it was best to wait until he spilled the beans of his own volition.

While he transferred the quinoa salad into proper plates, she selected a Miles Davis album to play. The cheap audio system made her miss her turn-table and vinyl collection back home, but it would have to do until she could move it here.

Along with silverware, Hardy had put two bottles of lager on the small table by the window.

"Are we drinking on week days now?"

He smirked and went back to stabbing blueberries in his plate. She clunk her bottle with his, even though he hadn't raised it, and took a long, refreshing gulp.

"Ah, I needed that."

He stopped chewing and looked at her askance.

"You know that regular client I have who's an Arabian prince?"

"Jafar?"

"Stop calling him that!" Hannah scolded him, slapping his hand playfully.

"From what you told me he's no Aladdin either."

"He may not be young and handsome, but he's loaded and nice, well, he was nice. Prince Khalid Ibn Saud had his PA call me today. He said that if I can't see him this week, he'll never book me again and will— and I quote— bestow his gifts upon another girl."

Alec rolled his eyes at that.

She enjoyed been able to talk about her job so openly with him, still, she knew he wasn't entirely comfortable with the discussion. She waited to see if he would ask her what she planned to do about it. Three mouthfuls of salad and two furtive glances later, he asked.

"I don't know, he's like 25% of my income this year… but I really don't like that new attitude of his."

"Elitist bullshit, act like they're owed everything," Alec said, revealing his working-class roots.

"Yeah, exactly!"

He snorted at that.

"What?"

"You're kind of a snob too."

"I'm not… Ok, maybe with clients. But my family's strictly middle class, and I'll have you know my best friend grew up on an estate in East London, so…" She took another sip of lager with a satisfied look on her face. "And you can talk! You're always complaining about other people like you're so much better than everyone else."

"Aye, but I hate everyone equally," he said, underlying his last word with his fork.

"Yes and I have to say I'm particularly fond of the way you hate me."

He laughed and reached for her hand, holding it even though it meant he had to eat using his left one.

"You know you're gonna have to meet my friends and family eventually," Hannah said.

Halfway through her statement, she realized it wasn't strictly a joke.

"I'll make an effort," he answered.

There was a bit of chit chat about their day, but he got this anxious look in his eyes every time he looked out the window. He obviously had more to talk about than the terrible food at the justice court canteen.

He waited until they'd settled on the couch with mint tea and biscuits to mention— far too casually to Hannah's liking— that today the defense barrister had accused Ellie of having an affair with him. He talked about their "evidence" which was Ellie spending two hours in his hotel room the night of Joe's arrest.

She could, rationally, understand that it was only the defense team's strategy, yet it made her blood boil with anger.

Hannah burst into a long-winded rant about Ellie's sweetness, bloodthirsty barristers and the rotten, corrupted British justice system. Hardy's astonished face told her she may be overreacting.

"I could testify!" she added, "I'd say you are with me. I came to Broadchurch twice during the investigation. Becca saw us."

"Ellie's been married for over ten years, it didn't stop them from accusing her. And if they find out you're an escort, it'll only make things worse."

"But…"

She felt a sort of anguish overwhelm her. The very idea of people thinking Alec had been sleeping with someone else upset her. And she realized that her motivation went beyond helping out with the trial. She wanted to stand up in front of a crowded courtroom and make sure every barrister, judge, member of the jury knew that Alec was with her. Suddenly, his earlier physical behaviour at the grocery store made an awful lot of sense. And so did weddings, oddly enough.

"By the way, I'm going to Sandbrook this weekend, Ellie will drive me."

"I could drive you."

He grimaced.

"Better not, we'll meet with Tess."

Hannah's stomach drop. He couldn't possibly have chosen a worst time to tell her about this.

His ex-wife had, understandably, never liked Hannah. Again, Hannah understood why she couldn't come along, but she still didn't like the idea of him spending the weekend with a woman he was suspected of having an affair with and a woman he used to love.

"So, you're gonna spend the week end with two other women while I— what?— stay here and pine after you?"

Alec rolled his eyes.

"We're leaving tomorrow, I'll drop by Claire's first. We'll meet with Tess, she can help us reopen the case… It's just work, Hannah."

And hit her then, those words she'd said so often to Ben and other boyfriends: "it's just work", "it's my job", "it's different". Every time, she'd expected them to get over it and compartmentalize their feelings. She'd never been on the receiving end. What a cruel twist of faith.

She knew she could trust Hardy, she knew it, but she couldn't bring herself to believe it. It felt all twisted and sharp inside of her, emotions reminiscent of Duncan's betrayal, and an acrid taste rose in her throat.

She hated feeling like this, hated herself for feeling like this.

She brought her feet up on the couch, and encircled her knees.

"I didn't sleep with Miller," Hardy said, some irritation slipping in his voice.

"But you could have," she said, somewhat cynically.

He stared at her with a quirked eyebrow and his cup halfway to his mouth.

"Wha'? No, she hates me."

"No, I mean, you were divorced, and we were not… you know. You could have."

"For God's sake," he muttered before rising from the couch with a deep sigh.

Hannah retreated to the bathroom, and although the excuse didn't fool Hardy, he kept quiet.

She splashed cold water on her face, then kept her eyes closed, hands covering her cheeks and mouth, as she breathed in deeply.

There was always the possibility of going back to London. She'd kill two birds with one stone: keep her lucrative client and escape this shitty situation. The thought of leaving Broadchurch loosened the knot in her stomach.

Same old, Hannah.

Once she'd collected herself, she wiped the mascara under her eyes. She braced herself on the sink and looked straight at her reflection: "Don't run away. Don't fuck this up."

There was a timid knock on the door and a "you alright?" that made her come out of the bathroom. Hardy took in her appearance and laid a hand on her shoulder.

"Look, Hannah, I really didn't sleep with Miller."

"I know… I think, it's all getting to me, this whole situation. I'm sorry."

"Don't be. I can't— I don't know how to say things… I'm sorry. If you wanna go back to London, I— I'd understand." he said.

She could tell from the way he looked down and squeezed her shoulder, that he didn't really want her to. She stepped closer to him and rubbed his chest over the blue cotton shirt.

"No. I wanna stay with you. Okay?"

"Okay."

A smile tugged weakly at the corners of his mouth. Under her hand, she felt some tension leave his chest. He rested his forehead on hers and held her hand over his heart.

"Just come back to me," she whispered.

She felt his nod and they kissed slowly, wistfully.

Afterwards, she helped him pack, folding a t-shirt he'd set aside and insisting he took a second pair of shoes. They talked about his daughter, and it was a relief to see him smile.

Finally, they settled in bed even though it was only 9pm, partly because there wasn't much to do at night in Broadchurch. But mostly because the bed was their Switzerland. A neutral ground, a shelter made out of Egyptian cotton and sweet nothings.

He watched another episode of The Walking Dead while she browsed manly aprons and DIY decor ideas on Pinterest. She wondered if Alec was handy enough to build her a coffee table from driftwood.

Inevitably, she got pulled back into the drama of the show, and she let go of her iPad in favour of cuddling up to Hardy. She may have overplayed her fear a bit, just because she enjoyed his protective arm around her. At that moment, he could say everything would be alright without lying.

They'd left the windows opened and a cool, salty breeze drifted in along with the calmness of the night. They didn't start another episode. He stroke her shoulder, just under the lacy edge of her camisole, and rubbed his cheek on her hair. Meanwhile, she traced patterns with her finger where his t-shirt had ridden up, above his hip.

A lazy sort of arousal built inside of her, but she was too comfortable to do anything about it. That is until Alec's fingers drifted from her shoulder to her neck, a feather light touch just under her jaw that made her eyes flutter shut. Her own touch became more purposeful, her hand slipping under his t-shirt and exploring his torso.

When his fingers curled over the nape of her neck, a soft whimper escaped her throat, surprising her. She tilted her head to offer her lips, and she made sure to give him something to think about over the weekend.


	7. Episode 6

Thanks to Fadewithfury for her help and also to two Anons, whose brilliant suggestions inspired me (although I'm afraid I took their ideas in the opposite direction of what they wanted).

* * *

The kitchen was a strange combination of white IKEA cupboards, fishing knick-knacks (including a plastic lobster) and crooked doorways. It didn't particularly appeal to Hannah's aesthetics. Some mornings, she yearned for sleek stainless steel, handcrafted glass lampshades and a special edition Breville Café Roma espresso machine.

She trudged along the worn out floorboards and whined when her toe caught in a raised plank.

"Bloody stupid shack," she muttered.

Grey light streamed in through the window, and fat drops of rain splashed against the glass. A day for cigarette ashes in the sink and cold tea, she thought. It looked more like a Sunday afternoon than a September morning. This hour's only redeeming quality was the sight of Hardy preparing breakfast in a t-shirt and boxers— the ones she'd bought for him, black and tighter than those he usually chose.

She paused and shamelessly ogled his bum.

Ha, much better now.

"You checking out my arse again?"

"Maybe."

She smiled mischievously, tucking her chin in her shoulder.

Hannah encircled his waist and rested her head on his shoulder blade. The grey t-shirt was soft against her cheek. He smelled of mornings: warm cotton and tangy skin.

"I was gonna bring you coffee," he said.

He poured the beverage in a mug, and she closed her eyes, inhaling the odorous steam that rose from the pot.

"You always know when I need coffee."

He stroked her hands where they were joined, just above his navel.

"When did you wake up?" he asked.

"5:47," she whined. "Had to send the revised scenario before 7:00. It's done now."

She was considering going back to bed, not alone hopefully. She nuzzled Hardy's neck, hands slipping over his torso, to entice him to join her. He turned in her arms and smiled a crooked smile. Wiping a strand of hair off her cheek, his eyes roamed her face, finally settling on her lips. They parted invitingly under his attention, and she nudged his nose with hers. He pretended to hesitate because he liked it when she pouted, then he could kiss her bottom lip first, suck it as an appetizer before taking her whole mouth. It was one of those choreography they'd repeated many times and that never failed to lift their spirits. His thumb traced the arch of her hipbone and her nails grazed his scalp, and they sighed contentedly as they fell into the familiar kiss.

She thought she'd won him over, and she tried to pull him towards the bedroom with her arms still around him, but he resisted. Ellie was supposed to pick him up soon to go to Sandbrook. Again.

"We have more questions to ask," he explained. "Tess has some files for me and we'll… we'll take a look at the river."

From the expression on his face, she knew exactly what river he was referring to. She offered a sympathetic smile.

Letting go of him, resigned that he had to leave soon, she embraced the coffee cup instead. She leaned back against the kitchen island, drinking while Hardy made himself some toasts.

From time to time, he glanced at her over his shoulder, gauging her caffeine intake.

"Maybe you can enlighten me about something," he said when she seemed to be back on her feet.

There was a certain set to his jaw that told her this was official business. He told her about Claire and Lee, namely their sexual lives. He repeated the words she'd used with him and with Ellie: "I can't help it", "he's like a drug to me", "he never hurt me unless I asked him to". Alec didn't know if he could trust Claire anymore, if she really needed to be protected from her husband or if she'd played him all along. He hoped she could shine a new light on his witness' behavior.

Hannah realized Alec was seeking her professional opinion on the matter.

"You're sure it's all consensual, right?" she asked. "You know how manipulative an abusive husband can be."

"As far as I know, she never said otherwise. I'll look into it… but let's assume it is for now."

"Right, ok, so sex is just that good with him and they're into kinky stuff."

Her first thought was of DS Harry Keagan. She had lost control with him and not in an enjoyable way. She'd had sex with him despite her better judgement. She could believe Claire. However, she wasn't too keen on revealing that misadventure to Hardy. Instead she told him that there was often more than met the eyes. There were issues of control, power and submission, fear of abandonment and loneliness, faith and make-believe, all woven into the fabric of desire.

She told him about clients that had been married to the same women for years and had never opened up about their secret fantasies for fear of rejection. Their relief was tangible when Belle accepted to play along without batting an eye.

Sexual practices and preferences were more diverse than one would think, but no one ever really talked about it. People sometimes felt alone or abnormal because of their fantasies. How amazing it must be to find someone to share your love and kinks with. Maybe that was the crux of the matter with Claire and Lee's relationship: the same lust for danger.

"Some people, they resonate deep within our souls, they feed some sort of primal desire for love or self-destruction."

Hardy rolled his tongue inside his cheek, mulling over what she'd just said. At some point, while she was talking, he'd stepped closer to her and had taken her hand. He was rubbing his thumb inside her palm, but stopped abruptly as if he'd just caught himself doing it.

"Bloody poetic," he said.

She ignored his sarcasm. It wasn't what he'd wanted to hear, but she had no easy answers for him.

"Claire and Lee hadn't seen each other in over a year— possibly a year of mediocre sex, if any— it's not that surprising she fell into his arms," Hannah said.

"What's the bloody point of trying to protect her if she won't protect herself!"

"I don't know, maybe she deserves a second chance, not for lying obviously, but… it's not rational."

Hardy rolled his eyes and shook his head.

"Remember when I arrived here a few weeks back," Hannah continued, "we hadn't been together in two months. We shagged on the floor, I had carpet burns for days. Imagine if we hadn't seen each other in a year."

"Don't compare us to them. We're not like that."

"We had sex outdoors the other morning and not backyard outdoors— public place outdoors. Anyway, my point is, you'd collapsed the day before, you'd just made your will, we'd had a sort of talk. It wasn't just about sexual gratification."

His eyes slid away, and his lips pressed into a thin line. He knew she was right.

"Sometimes it's about more than sex," Hannah continued in a low voice, "figure out what it means to them, their dynamic, and maybe you'll find the key to your investigation. But you know them better than me."

She drank the last of her coffee and rinsed out her cup while Hardy absentmindedly chewed on his toast. He was deep in thought, trying to figure out Claire and Lee.

"I can't understand that," he declared, "More than sex, what does that mean?"

"Think about it. When you joined me in the shower after that fight we had about Dave?"

Their eyes met and she could tell he remembered too: the need to reconnect after their first big fight. The apologies in the form of oral sex. Hardy took a step closer to her, and Hannah twisted her finger in the hem of his t-shirt.

"In your hotel room, the first time I came to Broadchurch?" she continued, her voice intentionally low.

He'd kept his face buried in the crook of her neck as if to hide away from the world. She'd been his escape for the longest time.

"When you showed up in Sandbrook," he replied.

He'd told her he had second thoughts about getting divorced, and she'd hopped on the first train. Images of his hand under her dress at a red light, and of nail marks down his back, flashed before her eyes. A spike of arousal ran through her, resulting in fresh wetness between her legs.

He closed the gap between their bodies, hands on each side of her, grabbing the edge of the wooden countertop. The veins in his forearms stood out as he braced himself.

How was this more rational? Why did it have to be? Maybe holding off made him feel like a better man, but she was in the business of letting go. Still, she liked to let him believe it was his choice to succumb. After all, he couldn't see the wild glint in his own eyes even if it was mirrored in hers.

She held his gaze, challenging him, as she pushed her shorts to the floor. She didn't flinch when cold air brushed her sex.

He appraised her with feigned detachment.

"Ye trying to prove a point, Baxter?"

"Already proven." She rubbed him through his boxers. "Hard-y."

He snorted at her terrible pun even though he was pleased. He kissed her and, as she rubbed more insistently, it went from sweet to fierce. Each movement of her lips, each swipe of her tongue, unraveled him a little more.

With an arm around her waist and another under her knee, he lifted her up on the countertop. She squeaked in surprise. Her legs spread to cradle his narrow hips.

"What is this time about, then, if not sex?" he asked in a husky voice, close to her ear.

"Don't know yet," she lied.

She kissed him. Her lips betrayed her selfishness, her anguish. He kept her close, fingers digging in the flesh of her leg and waist.

He dipped his head to kiss down her neck, feeling her pulse quicken under his tongue. Her nipples, revealed by the thin silk, caught his attention. He licked and nipped at them through the fabric, eliciting delicious moans from Hannah.

She loved his bristles on her skin in contrast to the silk camisole and smooth palms. She loved his cock growing harder against her inner thigh, its weight and warmth filled with promises.

"Now," she pleaded, urging him on with her legs tightening around his hips.

Hardy lowered his boxers and guided his cock in her.

It wasn't elegant.

It was a man who might die tomorrow and the woman afraid to lose him.

His thrusts were hot and quick from the beginning. She could only hold on for the ride as the sound of slapping skin echoed in the kitchen.

When his rhythm faltered, she took over. Leaning back on her hands for leverage, she bucked her hips as best as she could, chasing her own pleasure.

Her eyes were closed, her head thrown back, displaying skin he was only too happy to cover in sloppy kisses.

Pleasure coiled in her stomach. It wasn't enough. She wanted it now. She wanted it all: orgasms, love, reassurance.

After a particularly determined thrust up, her hands slipped knocking over a bowl of grapes. They were only momentarily startled by the noise before taking advantage of the new position. With Hannah on her back, Hardy pulled her legs over his shoulders and pushed in at an angle that made her mouth and eyes fly wide opened. Somewhere, in the back of her mind, there was a new #1 on her top 5 positions list.

It wasn't long before she was leaving red crescents on his forearms. Sweat dripped from his skin to hers and made everything salty.

Hardy reached for her face, seeking her gaze, desperate for a connection to hold on to before falling over the edge.

"Han—"

"Do it!"

He pushed in a far as he could and spilled himself in her with a grunt. He didn't stop. Intent on continuing for as long as he physically could. Hannah's back arched off the counter, her whole body going taut, high-strung before the flood. Her thighs quivered and she climaxed.

When she came to, her legs had fallen off his shoulders, and Alec's head was resting heavily on her chest. She ran her fingers through his hair as he slowly recovered.

When he straightened, Alec winced, his back would pay the price of their ardor. She refrained from commenting on his age, he'd just proven he was more than able of taking on a girl ten years his junior.

"That was…"

He had a strange look in his eyes, almost like he didn't recognize her— or himself.

He'd told Claire that Lee wasn't good for her, but he'd never wondered if Hannah was good for him. "A primal desire for love or self-destruction," she'd said.

She shied away from that look, tucking her head under his chin. She heard his sigh as it passed through his chest. He rubbed her back with broad, soothing strokes, and she closed her eyes, focusing on that rhythm until she felt at peace.

"We're not like them, Alec… we don't hurt each other."

"… Better clean that countertop."


	8. Episode 6 pt2

Bumper cars. Now that was a great metaphor for his life right now. People coming at you from all sides for "fun". You can't control the bloody thing whichever way you turn the wheel. You drift and crash with no control whatsoever. It's all over too soon. And you've accomplished absolutely nothing.

Alec rested his forehead against the cool car window. The trees and buildings they passed on the way back from Sandbrook were just a nauseating blur he barely registered.

Between Sandbrook, the trial, his failed marriage, his daughter and his relationship with Hannah, his thoughts were an incoherent jumble in his head. Darktwisted roots growing in all directions, going nowhere.

He longed for a time when he knew where he was going and how to get there. A time when life was easy to foretell. Back when he was sure of who he was, and who he was going home to. He'd never thought he'd one day miss the stability of a loveless marriage.

When you don't expect anything from life, you can't be disappointed.

The moment he told Tess he missed her replayed in his mind, superimposed with flashbacks of fucking Hannah in the kitchen. One woman was familiar and reliable, the other was unpredictable, even mad at times. If Tess, of all people, had had an affair, it was only a matter of time before Hannah did too. She was smart and funny and gorgeous, and he was old, sick and grumpy, sooner or later, she would come to her senses.

But one had rejected him— and not just today— and the other accepted him in every way.

His fear was fucking everything up, because it scared him how much he loved Hannah. He could lose her any day, just like he'd lost everything else. Like Ellie had, and the Lattimers and so many others he'd met over the years. Things fell apart. You wake up one morning and a part of your life you'd taken from granted has disintegrated.

A wave of dread washed over him, and suddenly he couldn't wait to be back in Broadchurch. He'd angered Claire who, as he'd found out recently, was impulsive and erratic. And now she was under pressure too. More importantly, she knew about Hannah (Lee must have told her by now).

He called Hannah.

"Where are you?"

"Hey you! I'm at the beach. Will you—"

"Alone?"

"Yeah… What's going on?"

The beach wasn't entirely safe: open space, not enough people, too many blunt objects. The more he thought about it, the more erratic his heart rate became. He racked his brain for a public place in Broadchurch; Claire and Lee wouldn't attack her in front of a crowd.

"Go to the Wildflowers Cafe."

"Why?"

"I'll meet you there."

"Alec?"

"Go! And stay there."

He hung up. He could feel Miller's eyes on him, but he ignored her.

"You all right?" she insisted.

Just like she escaped her problems by trying to solve his, Alec asked after her sons instead of answering her.

He'd never admit it, but having wee Fred around from time to time, he liked that. Some vague feeling of being a parental figure that he missed.

They had yet to hear back from Tom's testimony. He knew because Miller made him check her mobile every two minutes.

"How is this my life?" she had asked the first day of the trial, and he was asking himself the same question now.

* * *

Miller dropped him off in front of the Wildflowers Café on high street. He scanned the mismatched furniture in the room for a familiar blond head.

She wasn't there.

The knot in his stomach tightened. Looking outside, he called her mobile.

Five rings and there was no answer.

He stopped a waitress passing by, almost knocking the tray off her hands, and he described Hannah to her. Just as the employee was indicating a table in the corner, Hannah came out of the bathroom.

With long strides, Hardy reached her and grabbed her arms a little too tight.

"It's all right, it's all right. I'm here. Like you asked," Hannah said, sensing his agitation, "Look, I trust you, but I'd rather not have to trust you blindly. Please tell me what's happening."

They sat down, and she pushed aside the vase of marigold to take his hands in hers. She was on her third cup of coffee so there was a slight tremor to her fingers. He ran his thumbs over her knuckles as he explained the Claire situation.

He realized, as he talked, that he may have overreacted. Panic was his default mode these days. Maybe because death was on his mind so much.

"Haven't we had that conversation before?" Hannah asked.

There was a slur to her words indicating boredom.

_I've done it_, he thought, _she's had enough_.

"That was only about Ashworth, now there's Claire too and she may be even more of a danger."

"Then why were you protecting her?"

It was an accusation more than a question. He didn't answer. She was right, though. He was regretting his decision more and more each day.

Hannah released his hands with a sigh and dipped a ladyfinger in her coffee. She swirled the biscuit around the cup without paying attention until it had become too soggy and broke in half. There was something on her mind, and he needed to know what it was.

"Han?"

"Alright, I'll go back to London."

"I didn't say you should leave."

"I know, but I've to anyway. I really need to meet up with Adidja for the project and check on my house. I've been here longer than I was supposed to."

She looked at him through curly wisps of hair. He got the impression that she was expecting something from him, but he didn't know what it was. All he knew was that he didn't want her to leave, but his hands were cold where her fingers had been and the words stuck to his vocal cords.

There was silence as they both looked out the window or rather at their reflection on the glass pane. He was enthralled by the shadow of her eyelashes.

"You're beautiful," he said.

She smiled, one corner of her mouth at a time, and self-consciously smoothed her hair.

"I'll be back soon, sooner than you think," she said softly.

"Do you wanna have children?" he blurted out.

She was so surprised by his question, she was at a loss for words. Her mouth closed and opened like a fish. She clasped her hands together and pressed her indexes to her lips.

"Now? With you?"

She didn't want children. He very well knew that, but he'd hoped… he wasn't sure what he'd hoped, and now he regretted asking. He sighed, eyes sliding away.

"You miss Daisy," she said softly after a moment.

She stroke his forearm as he tried to put into words the sense of loss he carried in his chest.

"Not just Daisy, being a family, a dad… who I used to be."

"I'm sorry, I can't help you with that."

He leaned forward on the table and clutched her hands.

"You could… I wouldn't cock it up this time, I'd be there, I'm a good dad."

"I'm not having a baby so you'll get a do-over. That's not how it works."

"What if you accidentally got pregnant?"

"What kind of question is that? I've put up with a lot lately because you're stressed out. But this, this really takes the cake," she said. "Can we go back home? I should start packing."

He realized then that she meant to leave tomorrow.

She'd forgotten about his procedure.

He'd scared her off.

* * *

Hannah's house was cold. It smelled of dust and the echo of her own footsteps gave her the creeps. As much as she disliked Hardy's shack at times, she had to admit it was more inviting than her monochrome house. It was like she'd decorated it with the express purpose of keeping people out. All this white, no mess, no mistakes were permitted.

She walked from one room to another, making sure nothing was amiss and evaluating the amount of dusting required.

In her office, she sat in the taupe leather swan armchair— a Jacobsen, 2336 £. She dragged her fingers along the curve of the armrest. Such an elegant design, she'd had dirty dreams about that chair. Seeing it in her house, with matching wallpaper and lamp, she'd thought she had everything a gal could ever want. Surely this was happiness.

These armrests, as elegant as they were, wouldn't hold her in bed tonight.

Alec had really freaked her out yesterday when he'd talked about children. She couldn't shake off that lost-little-boy look in his eyes that always tugged at her heart. She should've stayed in Broadchurch. She tried to convince herself that she hadn't run away. She'd go back soon. She just needed a break from all the drama.

She swiveled in the chair and spotted her agenda opened on the glass desk. Dust motes floated in the air as she flipped through the pages until she'd reached today's date. There was something written on the page: "Alec surgery 10:00"

"Fuck."

She'd written it down weeks ago when he'd first gotten the date, but he'd seldom mentioned it since then. She'd been certain it was next month. Why hadn't he said anything yesterday?

"Fuck, fuck."

* * *

Hardy didn't like being touched by strangers, neither did he like being fussed over. Most of all, Hardy hated hospitals and he'd seen too many in the last years. He was in a foul mood as they prepped him for surgery. Maybe he should've been nicer to the man who was about to cut him opened, but focusing on the things he disliked, the little things, kept his anxiety at bay.

As the anaesthesia took over his body, familiar faces flashed before his eyes. He tried to hold on to the image of Hannah looking down on him with a smile, to the phantom sensation of her hair tickling his cheeks. He tried rising his head to meet her lips but his body was paralyzed. And it seemed the more he wanted to touch her, the more he tried to reach her, the farther away from him she was. Like grasping at water, her presence trickled between his fingers. Then he was drowning.

He hated the feeling like no time had passed at all since he'd fallen asleep. The world was still foggy around him, his body heavy and slow. He could feel the pacemaker in his chest, such a strange sensation to be part machine.

Miller was shouting at him and all he could do was laugh: he'd made it through. He felt elated, that was the only word for it. He couldn't stop laughing albeit weakly.

Tess came in with her usual in charge attitude. Even though there were two more women than he'd expected to see upon waking up, neither was the one he really wanted to have by his side. What a knob-head he'd been yesterday.

He vaguely registered Miller talking about picking up her son, and he was left alone with his ex-wife. All he wanted now was to get out of here, wash the hospital taste off his mouth and call Hannah, tell her to come back. Beg if he had to. It didn't matter anymore.

"Spoke to the doctors, they recommend you stay in," Tess said.

"Take me home."

The curtain by the bed was drawn, and a beaming smile appeared on Alec's face. Tess followed the direction of his gaze.

"You're here!" Hardy said.

"'Course I am, came back as soon as I realized. You bastard," Hannah said affectionately.

She walked to the bed, without even noticing the other woman. Her vision was blurry as tears of joy welled up in her eyes.

"Why didn't you remind me? Don't ever do that to me again!"

She gently brushed his hair off his forehead and cupped his cheek. Hardy turned his head to kiss her palm and they smiled at each other.

"You made it through."

"I made it through," he laughed.

Tess clearing her throat interrupted their reunion.

Only then did Hannah notice the woman standing there in a suit. It took a few seconds, but she recognized her from family photos Alec had showed her.

"And who are you?" the ex-wife asked.

"Hannah."

She didn't offer her hand to shake.

"Oh, the infamous Hannah."

"Don't start," Hardy said, recognizing her tone. "You gonna give us a lift or not?"

* * *

Hannah was studying the label on Alec's medicine, trying to figure out how many he had to take, when Tess plucked the bottle right out of her hands.

"I was reading that," Hannah said.

"I've got this."

"I had this."

Tess only nodded, offering a tight-lipped, condescending smile that enraged Hannah.

She tempered down her anger, remembering a time when she'd fought over a client with Charlotte. They'd been so caught up in their own competition, they hadn't noticed when he'd almost choked to death.

She could either use her time and energy to argue with Tess or she could use it to be with Hardy. The latter would be far more enjoyable.

"You're smiling," Hannah noticed as she pulled up a chair next to him.

It had been a long time since she'd seen him just smile for no particular reason at all. Just enjoying the moment. She extended her legs along his and closed her eyes as well, basking in the sun rays grazing her face. There was a whiff of autumn in the air, mixed with the usual smell of the sea.

"Tess is taking care of your medication."

She didn't have to explain what had happened for Alec to know.

"Hasn't changed, that one," he said with an eye roll.

There was some talk about the pills he needed to take and about Hannah in a sexy nurse uniform ("I have many to choose from"). He mentioned his embarrassment when the doctor asked about the bruises across his thighs. "The edge of the countertop, yesterday morning," he explained, tapping the heel of his hand against the other palm. And when Tess came out, they were both laughing out loud.

She made sure her ex-husband was warm enough and gave him the pills along with a glass of water. She sat on the parapet, keeping her eyes off Alec and Hannah's entwined hands.

"Why did you come?"

Tess' eyes flitted to Hannah who was ill at ease with the turn the conversation had taken. But Alec's grasp on her hand tightened so she stayed. As they talked, she realized how his ex-wife's infidelity still hurt him. He was bitter. No wonder it was hard for him to trust anyone.

Hannah remembered the day he'd found out about the affair. He'd driven through the night and showed up on her doorstep in London. He was a mess. He had no illusion about his wife's withering feelings for him, but he hadn't expected such a betrayal. That night, he'd tried to have sex with Hannah but she'd refused. No matter how much she desired him, she hadn't wanted their first time to happen out of revenge. She'd listened to him, though, until he'd calmed down, until he was his usual rational self again. And much to her despair, she'd sent him back to Tess. The next time he'd come to London, it was only about them, and there was no way she could have refused him.

"Where you staying tonight?" Alec asked Tess.

"On your sofa?"

"You seen my sofa?"

"There's always the Trader's," Hannah said.

Tess looked daggers at her, fortunately a phone call broke the developing tension.

Alec talked to Daisy, and Hannah's heart swelled at the sight of the joy on his face.

She hadn't realized how heavy his health problems had been in her own chest. She could breathe much more freely now that he was out of danger. It was as if she'd shared his condition.

She rested her head on Hardy's shoulder, and he kissed the top of it, giving her hand a little squeeze. Tess had left to use the loo, leaving them both in silence. Waves came and went as the sun started his descent in the sky.

"Yesterday when I talked about having kids, I was… dunno, rethinking my life, I suppose."

"Facing death will do that to you…"

"I'm sorry… But I do want you to meet Daisy, properly."

"That I can do," she answered, even though the thought of becoming a step-mother scared her half to death (if Disney had taught her anything, it's that they're evil).

She straightened to look at him. He'd seen her at her worse, it was her turn to be there for him. They still had a lot to figure out, but she was confident they could do it.

"You know I love you enough, yeah? More than, actually," she said.

"Why?"

"This is just a rough patch, I know the man you are. A good man, like Tess said… I'd be lost without you, Alec."

The last words caught in her throat, and she tried to smile, looking up to keep her eyes from overflowing.

"Me too," he admitted.

He caressed her cheek with the back of his fingers, and she rested her forehead on his. The breeze whisked their hair and strands caught between their lips as they kissed. He chuckled and pushed the loose curls behind her ear before kissing her again. And again. And again.

She placed her hand on his chest, clutching his jumper.

"No more broken heart," she whispered.


	9. Episode 7 and 8

I.

Tess had refused to reopen the investigation, and Hardy had found out that Ellie had bribed her sister. The kitchen was paying the price for it. He was slamming the cupboard doors and rattling the kettle and cursing every piece of silverware.

"You alright in there?" Hannah asked from her seat in the living room.

The noise stopped for a moment, then his head peeked out of the door.

"D'you want a cuppa, babe?"

"Erm, yeah… Babe?"

"Which one?

"The jasmine tea I brought back from London. It's above the microwave."

Alec went back in the kitchen and Hannah to her work. A minute later, he handed her a steaming cup which she held with two sweater-covered hands. She blew on the tea to cool it.

Hardy stood in front of the evidence wall Ellie had put up. She hated that wall. Waking up to pictures of crime scenes and the smiling face of a little girl who was murdered, was a terrible way to start the day. She'd told Hardy so, but there was nowhere else to put it. Taking it down wasn't a option, they needed it to work.

The other thing she disliked was that it made it impossible for him to stop working. Even right now, at 10pm, two days after a heart surgery, he was studying it. He held his mug in his right hand, his left arm was still weak, so he'd hooked his thumb in the waistband of his pyjama pants, dragging it below his hipbone.

"Haven't you worked enough today?" she said.

Hardy gave her a pointed look over his mug.

"What? You said I could pester you," she said with a teasing smile.

"And what are _you_ doing right now?"

Hannah looked down at her computer screen where a half-written email to her associate was displayed.

"I just need to finish…"

"I'll stop if you stop."

He picked up a file from the table and looked over his shoulder as if he was challenging her.

"But…"

He started flipping through the document.

"Alright, alright," she said, saving the email for a later date.

"Shut down the computer."

"Put down the file first."

"On the count of three?"

She chuckled and they both put away their work. She placed her mug and computer on the coffee table and opened her arms.

"Come here you."

Hardy lay down on the couch, his head on Hannah's lap. She rubbed his chest and stomach, avoiding the sensitive area around his scar.

"D'you know what I fancy right now?" he said. "The pulled pork pizza at that restaurant near your place."

"Mmmm, yeah, so much cheese and their chips were the best. What's it called again? _Il Forno_ something?"

"I always thought it was Inferno."

She hadn't gone there in ages, it was their tradition whenever he visited her. One of those tucked-away little place only locals knew, warm and unpretentious. They'd stay there, sipping lager, long after their meal was finished.

"When we go back to London, we should go there straight away," Alec said.

She liked the way he said it, like it was a fact, not just a possibility. She knew he was getting closer to solving the Sandbrook case and tomorrow was the last day of evidence, which meant the trial would be over soon. It could be just a matter of days before their lives went back to normal. She ran her fingers through his soft hair as she contemplated what a normal life with Alec might be like. The truth was that she had no idea.

"I've been thinking of redecorating my house."

He'd closed his eyes, enjoying her combing, so his only reply was a "hm?"

"It's just… not me anymore," Hannah continued, "you could help."

He opened an eye.

"Paint?"

"Yeah and maybe choose the colors…"

She held her breath, waiting for his reaction.

"Yeah sure."

His tone was so casual she wasn't sure if he'd understood the implications of her suggestion.

He turned on his side and pressed his nose into her tummy which made her giggle. From her vantage point, she could see the happy lines at the corner of his eyes and the curled up side of his mouth. She massaged his scalp and he sighed, almost a purr.

"You call me babe and I'll call you kitten, yeah?"

She felt the reverberation of his laugh against her legs and stomach. He pulled up her t-shirt and sweater, just enough to reveal a little skin and press a kiss to it. His fingers slipped under her clothes to rest on her waist, thumb stroking the edge of her rib cage. His fingers were cold and made her skin turn to gooseflesh. She pulled a blue chenille blanket off the back of the sofa and draped it over him.

"Maybe Daisy would like to visit in London," Alec said

Hannah froze. Meeting his daughter was one thing, having her stay at her house was another.

"Just a weekend, one night."

"M'not sure Tess would approve."

"Bugger her. I'm Daisy's dad. I know what's right for my daughter just as much as her," Alec replied. His voice had hitched up a note, bordering on anger. "I called Tess 'love' today."

"What?" She couldn't help the twinge of jealousy in her heart even if she knew it was unfounded. "Is that why you just called me babe?"

"We were arguing, it slipped out. Old habits, didn't mean anything."

"Right. Well, now I'm definitely calling you kitten. And I'll do it in front of Ellie."

"You wouldn't dare."

"Watch me. Now let's go to bed, kitten."

He groaned and tightened his arms around her. She continued to caress his hair. This was nice, sleeping could wait.

* * *

II.

Hannah woke up too early from a restless night and decided to go for a walk. She donned a thick cowl neck sweater, tied her hair up in a messy bun and stepped out into the clear morning. Alec had been out all night. No phone calls, just a text "arrested claire". She'd learned of Joe's acquittal while watching the local news.

It wasn't a coincidence when her steps guided her to the police station.

She saw Alec and Ellie sitting on the edge of the harbour. It looked like Ellie was about to leave so she slowed down her footsteps, letting them finish their conversation. Alec saw her and waved slightly.

After saying goodbye to Ellie, Hannah sat down next to him. The shallow clank of moored boats filled the silence while she waited for him to speak. His eyes were bloodshot and puffy, like he'd cried.

"What happened?" she asked after a while, too worried to wait any longer.

"We got them, it's over. We arrested Claire, Lee and Ricky for the murders."

"That's good right?"

She'd imagined he would be happy, but he just looked… defeated.

"How are you feeling?" she prompted.

"Dunno," he said, eyebrows drawn together. "What do I do now?"

"We can go get that pizza," Hannah said, trying to infuse some humour into the conversation.

Hardy's stare moved from a point on the horizon to his clenched hands. She extended her fingers, reaching for his cheek, but he turned his head away to avoid her touch. Hannah's heart sank.

"You're not coming to London," she stated.

"Right now, I need to see my daughter."

Hannah felt she was being denied her reward. She'd left her beloved London, had given up three weeks of work and had lost her most lucrative client in the process. She'd supported him, helped him, encouraged him through this trying time. That's more than she'd ever done for anyone else. All of that for what? Love? And what did she have now? She had to go back to her big house, alone, and have sex with strangers while he was playing house with his ex-wife.

She knew it was selfish of her to think that. Then again, she'd never pretended to be anything else.

Something hot and ugly churned in her stomach, rising in her throat.

"But you said—"

"Come with me, to Sandbrook."

Hannah snorted.

"I don't think I can do another small town."

"Sandbrook's bigger."

She looked at him, clearly expressing that the relative size of the town wasn't the important point here.

"You can meet Daisy," he insisted.

"Baby steps, Alec."

It was only a few days ago that he'd asked her to meet his daughter, she hadn't quite wrapped her head around it yet. Somehow, showing up in Sandbrook didn't seem like the best way to go about this. Especially not now. Not after such an emotional time that had ripped the scab off wounds that had never truly healed. His ex-wife's infidelity was one of these opened wounds. Hannah's presence would only cause more tension.

"You're stalling," he replied.

"So what if I am? Don't you want this to go well?" She moved her hand to take his but stopped midway, afraid of another rejection. "Go to Sandbrook, have a good talk with Tess, you know you need to." He nodded. "Say nice things about me to Daisy, and… come back to me."

"I don't know, erm, I don't know how long it'll take."

"I should probably tell you to take as long as you need, but I think we both know I'm too impatient for that."

He laughed, a short sharp sound, but a good sign nonetheless.

She leaned tentatively against him. The next second, he was engulfing her in a hug. It was too tight to assuage her worries, more like holding on than hugging. He was breathing through clenched teeth and she rubbed his back soothingly.

"It's alright, we'll figure things out. Just come back to me," Hannah repeated.

They walked back to the house, stopping once on their way for a cup of tea to go. He didn't tell her about the trial or the interrogations, and she didn't ask, but he was obviously still thinking about it. It became obvious that he would want to leave Broadchurch as soon as possible.

She stood by his side while he removed one by one the pictures and maps on the wall. With every item he pulled down, he seemed to stand a little straighter. Off the wall and off his shoulders. He took a deep breath before closing the last box, she put a hand on his shoulder and he smiled weakly as he placed the lid down almost ceremoniously.

"I'm done."

* * *

III.

Hannah's suitcase rattled along the pavement, pulled by Hardy while she held her umbrella over them. He was walking her to the train station and each step closer made her sadder.

They reached the tiny brick building, not even a proper station, just a platform with a ticket machine. A few people, business types and a mother of three, were already waiting there. They said their goodbyes and kissed just outside the doors. Even under the roof, the drizzle hit them, carried by the wind. Hannah didn't let go of his jacket, clenching the fabric tighter in her fist. She had to voice her doubts, if only to hear reassuring words from him.

"I… I'm afraid you won't come back, that you'll like it too much, being a family again like you wanted. 'Cause I can't give you that."

Her face twisted in a grimace as she tried to hold back her tears, she didn't want to cry in public. He stroked her cheek, his eyes warm, maybe a little hurt that she thought that of him.

"Please hold me," she asked in a shaky voice.

He hugged her. A real Hardy hug the likes of which she hadn't received in a long time. He stood straight and solid, his arms wrapping protectively around her. Already, she felt better.

"Shhh shhh, I'll come back. I promise."

She turned her head to meet his lips. He kissed her deeply, regardless of the strangers there. Pulling away, he cupped her cheeks with both hands and looked straight into her eyes.

"Thank you… For everything," he whispered, "I love you, Hannah."

"I love you too."

* * *

IV.

"I miss you too. Good night."

Alec ended his nightly call with Hannah and stared at her picture until the screen shut down. He let it drop on the mattress with a sigh.

He'd been in Sandbrook for two weeks now, a guest in the house he used to own. He felt like a stray dog, brought in out of pity. He needed a place of his own. Somewhere permanent to settle. He was tired of being a nomad.

He was almost done here, he could feel it. It saddened him but in a good way, moving forward and all that.

His daughter, in bright pink sweatpants, walked in the room.

"Who are you talking to every night?" she asked.

"How do you know it's the same person?"

Daisy tapped the tip of her nose. It made him smile, he used to do that to her when she was being clever.

"Aren't we the little detective?"

"Must be in my DNA," she quipped.

He patted the bed next to him and Daisy sat down. He wasn't quite sure how to begin that conversation. Hannah had been wise not to come with him after all.

"Darling, you know your mum and I are not…"

Daisy rolled her eyes like only a teenager could.

"I get it, dad."

"Right. Of course, well, do you remember my friend Hannah? I used to visit her in London." Daisy nodded. "I— She's very… dear to me."

"Mum said she was with you in Broadchurch."

"Did she?" Alec asked, somewhat wary of what else Tess might have said.

"Said she was taking care of you and that— that she made you happy."

His daughter giggled at the astonished look on his face.

"She said that? She's right, I was very lucky to have her with me… You make me very happy too, darling, you know that, don't you?"

She rolled her eyes again, but with a smile this time and Alec kissed her forehead.

Tess appeared at that moment, drawn by their conversation. She didn't come in the bedroom, she leaned against the jamb instead, arms crossed.

He could hardly believe she'd done that. The two girls had a close relationship, Tess saying good things about Hannah would have more impact on their daughter than anything Alec could have said. This was an apology more than anything she'd ever said. It was liberating.

"She's your girlfriend, then?" Daisy asked.

Had he been drinking tea, he would have spit it out.

"Yeah, yeah, she is. It's a recent thing… I'll be staying with her in London for a while but I promise I'll come back and see you often."

Sandbrook was actually closer to London than Broadchurch had been.

"Will she come with you?" she asked.

"Maybe, would you like that?"

Daisy shrugged with a slight pout.

"She's nice and funny," Alec added, remembering what Hannah had asked him to do, "she could take you shopping in London."

"Maybe."

His daughter kept her eyes down, and Alec looked up at Tess for help.

"Dais, why don't you go make some popcorn and pick a movie, we'll be right down with you."

They waited until she was down the stairs and out of earshot to talk.

"Let's be clear, I don't really like your girlfriend," Tess said, "but I suppose I have to trust your judgement on that. And Daisy, she missed you while you were in Broadchurch. I want this to go well. She needs her father."

"Thank you."

* * *

V.

Hardy and Hannah sat on the small terrace behind her house, sharing a bottle of wine in the noisy London night. The Chinese lanterns above their heads swayed in the cool breeze. Her backyard was nothing but a spot of yellow grass surrounded by a wooden fence. Yet she'd found herself coming out here a lot in the last two weeks. She missed sitting outside the little blue house to look out at the sea and the never-ending sky. Hardy had changed a lot over the last year because of what he'd gone through and so had she. A sort of ricochet effect. Or maybe she was just getting older.

She looked over at Alec, clean-shaven with his hair trimmed, he was wearing a green oxford, like a flashback to the year they'd met. But the look in his eyes would never be as clear and innocent as it used to be.

He smiled at her and she leaned in for a kiss, the kind that took her breath away.

"You came back to me," she whispered.

"And don't you ever doubt it again."

They kissed again, slowly, tenderly.

They'd been apart for longer than this before, but this reunion was the most important of them all.

This wasn't a new beginning, this was getting back on the path they were on two years ago.

They'd gotten lost on their way, and they'd come out scarred but stronger.

"As long as you come back to me too," Hardy added.

He meant her job or perhaps her tendency to run away. Two things she'd been thinking about a lot lately. They both still had a lot to figure out but it didn't scare her as much as it used to.

She leaned against him and laced their fingers together, giving his hand a little squeeze.

"So, which room do you want to paint first?" he asked.

"I'm not sure I want to paint anymore," Hannah said, "I think we need a new place entirely. In the south west, maybe, closer to the M3 so you don't have to drive across town to go to Sandbrook."

"You've thought this through," he said.

"Don't sound so shocked, you know I want this to work. But I am not moving out of London."

"London's fine… So, should we spend the holidays with your family or mine?"

She stiffened beside him, and he burst out laughing.

"Oi!" she slapped his arm playfully, "Baby steps, Alec."

He stood up, pulling her up with him.

"There is one thing we don't need to take slowly," he said.

"Race you the bedroom."

She took off, Hardy on her heels, but he caught her before she'd reached the stairs. They tumbled together on the couch, laughing.

"Here?" she asked.

"To begin with."

* * *

A/N: Thank you for reading :D Please, consider leaving a review if you enjoyed this series. More Hardy x Hannah fanfics coming soon!


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